


He's Not Into You, Lucy van Pelt!

by RileyHale



Category: Peanuts
Genre: American Football, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RileyHale/pseuds/RileyHale
Summary: One pulled football too many causes a verbal altercation between Charlie Brown and Lucy. Consequences occur.
Relationships: Charlie Brown/Lucy van Pelt
Comments: 20
Kudos: 44





	1. He's Not Into You, Lucy van Pelt!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.

It was a position most familiar to Charlie Brown: flat on his back, in the middle of the field. Lucy standing over him, sadistically tossing the football, voicing her latest rationale for pulling the football out from him.

What was the reason today, he wondered?

Holding the ball too tightly? Sun getting in her eye? Applying her unique spin to some obscure biblical passage?

Didn't matter; truth be told he'd memorized the lot of them. Nothing she was saying was new to him, so he drowned out her words. Then came something new: "…and furthermore, Charlie Brown, want never gets, especially for you. Not in baseball, not with the redhead girl, not with kicking my football. You're doomed to failure all your life."

With that, she turned to walk away. And as she did, he felt a part of his brain engage that he'd never sensed before. Suddenly, he wasn't feeling passive towards Lucy anymore. He was feeling...he was feeling...anger. And...he had to act on this feeling.

"Not that you're any better," he said after her in a flat tone which stopped her in her tracks.

"What was that, Charlie Brown?" she asked as she walked back to him. "Would you care to repeat that?" she followed up in a more menacing timbre.

He didn't answer immediately; he took his time getting to his feet and dusting himself off, to her annoyance. Then he repeated: "Not that you're any—" He didn't complete the sentence, for he felt Lucy's fingers crash across his cheek, then: "Don't you _ever_ compare me to your level of failure. I'm _nothing_ like you!"

Unruffled despite his stinging cheek, Charlie Brown pressed on: "Tell that to Schroeder."

A gasp from her, an instant of shocked silence, another scathing slap across his face: "Shut up, Charlie Brown. What would you know? At least we're on speaking terms, me and Schroeder!"

A derisive " _HA!_ " from Charlie Brown. "Only because you frighten him! You've wrecked his piano! You act erratically around him! He's scared of you! He'll never love you!"

_SLAP!_ That one drew blood, but he remained undaunted: "Thank you for proving my point." This time his voice was calm. Lucy raised her fist to strike Charlie Brown, only she couldn't follow through. Her fist was shaking, craving a release of sorts. _Any_ release would do. She wanted to hit him, to pummel him repeatedly. But he was standing his ground.

Steadfastly. Unyieldingly. Defiantly.

And she knew any amount of violence would reinforce what he'd told her. And as she took in what he'd told her, she realized: he was right. He was right and she didn't like it. Not one bit. Eyes welling at the revelation, she spiked the football, then turned and ran away, A parting shot: " _YOU DON'T KNOW ME, YOU BLOCKHEAD!_ "

An hour passed. Then two. Then a still bleeding-from-the-mouth Charlie Brown found himself at the Van Pelt's front door, having rung the doorbell. The mother opened.

"Hello, Ma'am…No Ma'am, I'm not here to see Linus…Well, Lucy left her football with me…My face? Oh, it's nothing, Ma'am. Just a tackle that got out of hand…Yes, Ma'am, I'll get it looked at as soon as possible…Can I speak to Lucy by any chance?...Asleep?...Upset?...Well, I suppose I can try cheering her up…My pleasure, Ma'am."

The mother let him into Lucy's room which was dark due to the curtains being drawn. On the bed, a large blanket was covering a crabby, unresponsive lump. He approached and was soon next to the lump.

"Lucy, you left your football with me."

An apathetic tone: "Leave it here and get out." No desire even to raise her voice.

"Look, I know I was harsh with you. I'm sorry my message came out all wrong."

No response.

"I mean, I'm sure you must realize where you stand with Schroeder. I'm sure you need some outlet for your frustrations. That's why I play along with your football gag. I've even taught myself to fall and hit the ground without getting hurt."

Finally, from beneath the blanket: "Oh God, I've fallen far for Charlie Brown to take pity on me!"

"It's not pity!" Charlie Brown insisted. "It's concern for a friend's wellbeing. It's loving that friend enough not to have her suffer in life, and to be there for her when she needs comforting. Even if it's according to her twisted ideals."

Silence again.

"Well, I've said my say. I'll leave the ball by you and be going." He did as he promised and placed the ball beside her on the mattress. A hand shot out and pinned his hand down on the mattress. Lucy revealed herself from beneath the blanket, hair unkempt, eyes puffy and cheeks streaked with dried tears.

"Charlie Brown," she asked, "will you please pull up a chair? I don't feel like being alone right now."


	2. No Wait, Maybe He Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.

It was a position most unfamiliar with Charlie Brown.

It was the same field. Lucy was there, so was her football. Only…she wasn't holding it in place for him to kick. And neither was he stood some distance away, bracing himself for his run-up. Instead, the two of them were seated back-to-back in the middle of the field, instead of on either side of the tree at the edge of the field.

Strange, really.

Two weeks had passed since that visit to her house. What had happened after she asked him to pull up a chair and keep her company, it was still playing in his head. They just sat in silence, though she no longer seemed offended by his presence nor did he feel intimidated by hers. Their company was sufficient for each other.

The two weeks at school were also marked by some subtle changes. Charlie Brown's foibles didn't seem to annoy Lucy as much while he found it that bit easier to tolerate her abrasive nature. The name of the game was cordiality and between the two of them, that particular trait was more pronounced. It continued to the bemusement of their peers, some of whom questioned their own mental wellbeing while others saw a portent of an upcoming apocalypse.

Nevertheless, here they were, where Lucy had invited him for a session of tossing the football back and forth and where they were now taking a breather.

"Charlie Brown, I have a question. How come you've never felt antipathy towards me, no matter how cruel I was towards you?"

She was expecting a hesitant reply but instead was surprised by its immediacy.

"Maybe because I was a bit saddened by what you had become."

And its frankness. "I see," she replied, surprised that his answer hadn't angered her _quite_ at much as she expected. _Still…_

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" She asked with mild testiness, not sure if she'd like his answer.

"Call me nostalgic, Lucy, but I keep remembering you as the sweet girl I used to hang out with before Linus was born. Then suddenly you became this mean-spirited person and I refused to believe that was the real you."

She felt her anger spike at that revelation, and she snapped. "Well like it or not, you blockhead, I am what I am regardless of the circumstances!" _Oh God, no!_ Her regret was instant: she had just lashed out at the one person to show her any empathy! Even if it _was_ Charlie Brown.

Surprisingly, he remained where he was and continued. "Lucy, I want you to consider this for a moment. I don't see you hanging around with anyone in or out of school. Do you even have any friends? I mean _friends_ , not the girls you occasionally congregate with just to badmouth me."

"I…well, I…I mean there's…"

"Point is, you never socialize with anyone unless it is unavoidable."

"Oh, and I suppose the fact that I let you get close to me somehow makes you special, is that it?" Her pride, her fighting spirit were back on display after Charlie Brown had put her on the backfoot.

When he didn't answer, she took it as a cue to continue ranting. "One moment I'm happily playing with you, regularly! You're treating me like I'm the most special person in your world. Then my brother gets born and you become more interested in him! He grows up stealing the attention _I_ used to get from my parents, and then you become best friends with him instead of _me_! Why do you think I turned to Schroeder! You weren't there anymore! You abandoned me! You _abandoned_ me and I hated you! I couldn't stand you!"

Charlie Brown was now the surprised one. "Wow," he finally managed, "I…I never realized it ran that deep."

"Damn right it did! And you want to know the kicker? None of it worked! No matter how mean I was to you, you never took the hint, you kept coming back. Trying to kick the football, asking for my bogus psychiatric advice. You kept coming back! Even when I deliberately sabotaged your baseball games!"

They were still back-to-back, so even though Charlie Brown could hear the anger and the pang of regret in her voice, he couldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes. Nor did he have to, as he pivoted 180 from his position to embrace her from behind her for a most heartfelt hug.

"Lucy, for what it's worth, I am so, so sorry for being the cause of your distress. I don't even know where to start making amends."

Meanwhile, Lucy was internally screaming for Charlie Brown to let go of her. To get his dirty, disgusting mitts off of her. Only, she couldn't. There was genuine warmth and sincerity to his action, and she felt those qualities overcome her animosity. She allowed herself to believe that Charlie Brown was not the total failure she always wanted to believe that he was.

Finally, after having settled her turbulent emotions, she propositioned: "OK, Charlie Brown. How about a placekick? I hold, you kick, no shenanigans."

"No shenanigans?" His warmth and sincerity were still present, even if his question reflected no small amount of suspicion.

"Think of it as our way of making amends to each other."

When she put it that way, he had no choice but to agree with her. Soon there they were. She held the ball, with him about to start his run-up. He started his run-up.

_No way, Charlie Brown, no way!_ She was planning on pulling the ball, as payback for his audacity mere minutes ago. She watched his run-up, carefully. He always kicked with his right foot, so she was waiting for him to plant the left.

_Plant the left foot_ , she willed him as he fast approached.

_Plant the left foot._

_Plant the left foot._

_There!_

He was now fully committed as she pulled the ball, her head swinging along as she tracked it while waiting for a flying Charlie Brown to sail by. _So what if he lands hard_ , she silently chuckled. _He said he's learned how to land safely_.

Only, he didn't go sailing by. _Where is he_ , she mused to herself as she swung her head back to see Charlie Brown lying comfortably on his side beside her, sporting a _gotcha_ grin. _That blockhead!_ Instead of committing to the kick, he'd gone into a slide which he had timed to perfection to stop inches from her face.

"Charlie Brown, what are you…"

Her question was interrupted when he placed a mischievous kiss right on her nose. She recoiled from this action. "I guess we've both become easy to read," he offered as an explanation.

"Charlie Brown, that was a dirty trick! I'm going to knock your block off for that!"

She stood up to do just that, which cause him to shoot to his feet and hightail it away from her.

"Come back here and take your medicine!" she shouted as she took off after him. "When I get my hands on you, you'll be _wishing_ for Armageddon!"

As he ran from her, Charlie Brown detected a hint of playfulness in Lucy's voice. Though he wasn't about to risk stopping to find out whether or not the playfulness was real, he couldn't help but smile as Lucy bore down on him in hot pursuit.


	3. Face It, He's Not All That Bad!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.

Charlie Brown was in a pensive mood. Not only that, but he was also sore and stiff from head to toe. He was also almost having second thoughts after having joined his school's little league football team.

_Almost_.

The try-out was brutal, but he survived it, nonetheless. If anything, he was better prepared than most of his peers for the rigors. His constant failed efforts at kicking Lucy's football had not been without their upsides; he'd become quite the sprinter over time, so his explosive leg strength had become quite formidable.

As for his kicking…well, if the coach was impressed by Charlie Brown's sprinting, then he was absolutely floored by the power of the boy's right foot. His comments on Charlie Brown's kicking ability included several instances of blasphemy, so impressed was he.

So here was Charlie Brown, half-walking and half-shambling his way home from the try-outs. He had his rucksack containing his equipment slung over his shoulders, as well as his own personal football cradled in his left arm.

"Charlie Brown! Charlie Brown!" It was Lucy, running towards him. "Is it true what I'm hearing? Did you make our football team? _You_?"

Charlie Brown allowed a contented smile to creep across his face before answering: "Say hello to the team's new placekicker!"

His smile deflated somewhat when he saw Lucy not reflecting the awe he was expecting. "You know, Charlie Brown," she began in a neutral tone, "the reason players become placekickers…"

And here came the trademark Lucy van Pelt putdown. "…is that they're not good enough to become quarterbacks or tight ends, or any position of value. Either Charlie Brown was too tired for a comeback, or he'd come to accept her and her abrasiveness: he just groaned and laughed at her comment.

"Well, you _did_ play your part in my development," he talked through her insult, and the look of surprise that was her response was most satisfying.

"What are you talking about? You never kicked a single ball I held for you!"

"That's true," he at least conceded that much. "But think of the distance I'd fly just on the momentum of my kicking motion. When someone actually held the ball _still_ for me, I sent that ball _clean_ out of the field and over the road." He looked so proud to disclose that fact. "The coach even invoked Jesus, Mary and Joseph in his appraisal…"

"Really, Charlie Brown," Lucy sounded dubious at that boast. They were still walking together, and their route had taken them past their field.

Lucy recalled how Charlie Brown tricked her with the baseball slide, how he capped off his prank with a kiss on her nose, and how she chased him down promising unholy retribution, only to trap him in a side headlock and submit him to the worst noogie she could unleash. There was laughter that followed and the two parted still on good terms.

Lucy was feeling somewhat mischievous as she surveyed the field, took note of Charlie Brown's stiffness and saw the ball he was cradling. She put her plan into action.

"You know, kicking a ball is fine and dandy, bu-u-t…" And then she snatched his ball with an impish 'Yoink!' before quickly veering onto the field, where she stood waiting for him, all smiles. "…but what about your ball retrieval skills?"

"Lucy," he fired back in exasperation, "now is not the time! I'm stiff and tired and in no mood."

But her smile remained. "So? You may be stiff and tired during a big game, and you'll still need to retrieve the ball." Her smile then contorted to an evil smirk. "So come and get it!"

Challenge accepted, not that he had a choice. Wearily he dropped his bag and came at her. She held out the ball, he committed to it and at the very last second, she deftly spun out of his way as he charged past her.

It happened again.

Another time.

Once more. Each time with a smile inviting him to try again.

As frustrated as he was, Charlie Brown was also awestruck by Lucy's movement, which combined the efficient footwork of a boxer with the grace of a ballerina. Whether seated or standing, she was equally adept at teasing him with a football.

_Oh screw it_ , he reckoned, as he shifted his attention from the ball to its carrier. He came in for a low tackle, wrapping his arms around her legs and trapping them. Lucy had barely the time to squawk "Charlie Brown, what the hell!" as she went down. Furthermore, the momentum from the tackle sent the two of them rolling on the turf. Eventually, they stopped, with Charlie Brown on top of Lucy, his weight effectively pinning her down.

"Nice going, you blockhead!" scolded a sarcastic Lucy. "Now I'm all dirty. You can get off of me, by the way!"

"No I can't," he groaned back. "I was tired already before this stunt, and now you've taken the last of my energy."

"What?" she shouted back in disbelief, before taking a few very tentative sniffs. "Have you showered?" she asked just as tentatively.

"No. I was planning on a bath when I got home," he explained.

"Oh gross!" she exclaimed. "Get off! Get off! You smell worse than your dog!" She issued several uncomplimentary terms as she struggled to extricate the two of them.

Eventually – _eventually_ – they reached her house, still in good spirit.

"Charlie Brown, thank you for walking me home," said Lucy in as sincere a voice as Charlie Brown had ever heard from her. She was smiling very awkwardly at him, uncertain how to continue. "I…I'm really happy for you making the football team …and…and…" She could think of nothing further, other than planting a delicate kiss on his cheek, to his surprise and admitted delight.

"Now go home and get cleaned, you blockhead!" she ended the conversation and dashed inside.

A bewildered Charlie Brown was left making sense of her last actions as he made his way home while still feeling…well, he wasn't feeling bad, _that_ much was certain.


	4. He'll Always Be Special In His Own Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.

_Jab, jab!_

_Overhand right, left hook!_

It wasn't helping.

_Left hook body, left hook head, right uppercut!_

_Left uppercut, right uppercut, left hook head, right hook head!_

Lucy was in her backyard, working the punching bag hanging from the tree. This was her standard routine for venting confusion or frustration. Only it wasn't having the desired effect: Charlie Brown was still on her mind, and for that, she was berating herself harshly.

_I had one job, one bloody job: Congratulating him for making the football team! Why did I have to kiss him? Why?_

The moment at her front door had enjoyed extensive playback in her mind, much to her chagrin. The mental playback always led to the same incontrovertible truths:

**_1) She, Lucy van Pelt, had spontaneously and with no external coercion kissed Charlie Brown._ **

**_2) She, Lucy van Pelt, couldn't for the love of all things holy force herself to regret the aforementioned action._ **

One week later, and she still hadn't been able to meet with him long enough to discuss the matter. Football practice had been occupying a great deal of his time. By now word at school was rife of his kicking abilities and of the role it could play in the upcoming season opener. From what she'd been hearing, the coach was pushing the team especially hard for the game. Meaning that even if she did have a chance to meet with him, he'd be too tired for any meaningful conversation.

For now, the punching bag would have to suffice. So she went back to it, launching back into constant flurries of combinations.

"I must say, your technique is superb!" Charlie Brown's voice proclaimed his presence at her back door. His voice also caused her to spin maybe a little too eagerly to face him. "You've got the makings of a future Ann Wolfe, you know that don't you?"

"Charlie Brown, what are you doing here?" Her voice conveyed her surprise – but not displeasure – at his presence.

"Well, since we couldn't have any significant conversations at school this week, and as exhausted as I am, I figured your place could be as good a stopover as any on my way home," replied Charlie Brown in a droll voice. "Your mother said you'd be in your backyard."

"And what makes you think I'm still thinking about the kiss I gave you last week?" Defiance had now tempered Lucy's eager voice.

"Well, there's the fact that you brought up the event totally unprompted," answered a still droll Charlie Brown. If he was deriving any pleasure from Lucy's resultant mortified look, he was doing a world-class job of concealing it.

"Urgh! OK, so I kissed you! What of it? Are you reading anything deeper into it?" Lucy was still in her defensive mode.

"Are you?" parried Charlie Brown, before clarifying. "Because as agreeable as I found it, I was confused as to how you concluded that kissing me on the cheek was the most appropriate action with which to congratulate me."

To which Lucy had to confess: "I don't know, Charlie Brown. I simply do…not…know! Maybe I'm simply returning the faith you've shown in me for all these years in which I treated you poorly. Maybe I was allured by the way you've turned around your wishy-washy nature. There's no single possibility. Maybe even – Heaven forfend – I've even been allured by you yourself!"

Charlie Brown appeared unmoved by the statement, but his response contradicted his appearance. "And that's why we should have had this discussion sooner! As I said, I didn't find your kiss particularly disagreeable; in fact, if _that's_ to be expected from getting to know you better, then sign me up!"

Upon hearing that, Lucy fought hard to suppress a blush. She wanted instead to offer a glib counter to Charlie Brown's assertion. But the blockhead hindered any attempt at such a counter with: "Look, I'm not expecting a concrete answer from you right away."

Lucy was rendered instantly deflated at that reassurance. "Besides," Charlie Brown continued while eying her boxing gloves and the punching bag, "it seems you're still resolving your internal conflicts."

"I guess I do need some time to get my thoughts in order," Lucy admitted. "Thanks, I suppose, for at least allowing me that courtesy."

A mischievous smile then appeared on Charlie Brown's face as he said: "But don't think I'll be making it any easier."

Having said that, he walked up to her, whereupon he gently pinched her chin between his left thumb and index finger, the better to guide his lips to hers for the briefest of delicate touches.

Again, Lucy was rendered silent and petrified, for which Charlie Brown was ever thankful. "I realize I was taking a chance, so thank you for not decking me."

To which Lucy instantly snapped back to her usual self. "And who says I'm not thinking of doing so right now? Could be I'm just too tired to follow through!"

Charlie Brown played along, still smiling. "In which case, I'm the world's luckiest person?"

"Oh, just go home, you blockhead!" Lucy ordered behind a smirk that conveyed absolutely zero malice. "Go rest for your upcoming game!"

"So long, Lucy," replied Charlie Brown and turned to go home.

"…And good luck!" Lucy called out after him. He turned around to smile once more at her before continuing on his way.

When he was out of her sight, she returned to the bag.

_Left hook body, left hook head, left-right head!_

_Left uppercut, right uppercut, left hook head, right hook head!_

Meanwhile, from within the house, two figures had witnessed the preceding exchange. After which, the smaller boy turned to the bigger one and asked: "Why is it that I suddenly get the feeling that there's hope for humanity yet?"


	5. Do You Imagine Your Condition To Be Worse Than It Is?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.

"I guess it's going to sound like sour grapes, what I'm about to say to you."

Lucy was at Schroeder's house, resting as always on his _kinderklavier_ while he was playing on it. Today was different, however. The moment was different, her mood was different: _she_ was different. Her intentions were not to express any displays of affection – overt or furtive – but to provide an explanation.

"You may have noticed, that I've been spending more time with Charlie Brown over the past month," Lucy prefaced her statement. "And I'm afraid what you're seeing is what is really happening."

She paused there to let him compute what she had just told him. If he was computing anything, he gave no indication thereof: he continued playing undeterred. And to Lucy's surprise, his willful ignorance of her presence didn't anger her as much as it would have in earlier times. In fact, right at this moment, it didn't anger her at all; she even felt it would make saying her say that bit easier.

"Schroeder, I'm sorry. I'm still conflicted over this, but more and more I find myself drifting away from you and towards Charlie Brown." But Schroeder kept playing: to him, Mozart's _Turkish March_ was of greater importance as he tickled away at the keys.

Lucy didn't mind, because his inert response meant at least he'd be hearing her out without any backtalk. "I've known Charlie Brown longer than I've known you. In fact, we used to be inseparable. We'd hang out, we'd play all day. Then Linus was born and as he grew up, he and Charlie Brown became friends and I was left behind."

As she spoke, she felt her vision becoming streaked and misty. Schroeder kept doing what he did best in her presence: playing and ignoring. She continued: "That's when you came in. I needed someone to show me the affection I used to get from Charlie Brown. I thought you were quite the catch and…" she stopped to stifle a sudden sobbing spell, "…well, you're smart, you're handsome, you're not afraid to speak what's on your mind."

Unfortunately, Schroeder had always been immune to even her most saccharine flattery over the years, a trait that was still on full display. Although…was he becoming agitated? His keystrokes seemed harder, less delicate, and the notes, that bit harsher. Was he listening despite appearances to the contrary?

"But I've come to realize that what I've felt wasn't true. You were a crutch, a substitute. And me being me, I thought I could get you to like me and somehow make us work. Whether or not you were interested."

Her sobbing had intensified somewhat, and she was struggling to hold back her tears.

"I guess, what I wanted to say was: I'm sorry! I'm sorry for forcing myself on you. I'm sorry for thinking I could change you into liking me."

His notes hardened even more, as did his expression. Still, he didn't stop playing. But it was clear to Lucy that he wasn't ignoring her: he was _trying_ to ignore her.

"Dammit, Schroeder!" she spouted, her patience exhausted. "I _know_ you've been hearing me. I was trying to be patient with your aloofness. Is it too much to ask for some acknowledgement, at the very least?"

At that outburst, he finally stopped playing and looked at her with neither anger, sadness nor happiness. In fact, his face conveyed no emotion at all.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" he asked. "What purpose is it serving? More importantly, whose benefit is it serving?"

And now it was Lucy's turn to be rendered momentarily silent. "Excuse me?" she squeaked.

"What am I supposed to do with what you've told me? Stop you from walking out? Declare that I've secretly always loved you and don't want to lose you?"

Lucy's expression went from defensive to angry. "Schroeder, you idiot!" she yelled. "I swear you're denser than Charlie Brown! Here I was pouring my heart out, being as honest and open with you as I've ever been! And what do you do? You don't even offer the courtesy of hearing me out fully!"

"Can you blame me?" Schroeder yelled back. "Over the years I've been doing my best to ignore you! I mean, take a look at yourself, for god's sake! You're inconsiderate! You're mean-spirited! And you won't take no for an answer from me! You're either willfully ignorant or just plain deluded! "

And Lucy went back to mute surprise. Over time, Schroeder had always tempered his putdowns with wit and humor, leading her to think he was insulting her in jest, comedically roasting her. Now however, he wasn't holding back, he wasn't tempering: tact was no longer in his bag of tricks. And he wasn't done yet.

"And I suppose you're not just using Charlie Brown, are you? You say you're growing closer to him, but is it because you have genuine feelings, or because you're trying to get back at me?"

At _that_ , Lucy was insulted, and also a little confused.

Her anger: "I just told you that I've accepted the reality that you'll never be interested in me and decided to move on!" What surprised her was how she didn't at all become emotional while making that statement.

"So if you're moving on, does that mean that you really have feelings for Charlie Brown?" Schroeder followed up.

Her confusion: "I…I don't know. Maybe…I think…yes, maybe…"

Schroeder saw her uncertainty and immediately his expression changed. "You really like him, don't you?" he commented in sudden empathy. "You really like him, but you're struggling to come to terms with it!"

Her confusion became silent and changed to acknowledgement.

"So you came here, to me, to determine whether or not your feelings for him are genuine. Correct?"

Her silence remained.

"But you're talking to the wrong person, aren't you? _He_ needs to hear what you've just told me."

Her expression gradually revealed a clarity, a sense of purpose that had eluded her since the day she first kissed Charlie Brown. "Schroeder, you're right! I _am_ talking to the wrong person!"

She rose to her feet, but instead of leaving immediately, she lifted Schroeder to his feet by the hand. "Thank you, Schroeder," she said contritely. "For putting up with me for all this time. I hope you find the happiness you deserve with your music. Who knows, maybe you'll find that special someone who's meant for you."

She was tempted to kiss him on the cheek as a sign of gratitude, but she decided against it. So she simply let go and left without any fanfare. It was strange, how she began this visit dreading how she'd handle disclosing her thoughts to him. However, now she was looking back at how absolutely essential the meeting had been.

She owed it to Charlie Brown to make him aware of where he stood with her. And by god, she couldn't wait to tell him!


	6. He Never Made Promises Lightly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.

The knock at the front door was neither dainty nor subtle. As Charlie Brown moved to open it, he realized only one person owned a knock like that.

"Hiya, Chuck!" Patricia Reichardt hollered in her usual extroverted fashion.

"Hi, Patty," Charlie Brown greeted her back, intimidated by her presence as he usually was. "What brings you here?"

"Chuck, can't a football team's star quarterback come over to her ace kicker and tell him how swell she thinks he's turning out? That was some sick distance you got in today's practice."

Now, Charlie Brown was more accustomed to disparagements, _maybe_ the occasional backhanded compliment, to the point where he didn't know how to react to positive statements from anyone other than his parents. "Well, I don't know, Patty—" he began, only for Peppermint Patty to cut him off.

"If I didn't know better, Chuck," she commented with a sly grin and mischievous twinkle of the eye, "I'd say you were trying your damnedest these past weeks to impress a certain girl…"

"We-e-ll—" he stammered another attempt at replying, but Patty was already a hundred miles ahead of him.

"Maybe a sporty, athletically built short-haired girl, huh? One with cute freckles. Is _that_ who you had in mind, Chuck?"

"The thing is, Patty—" Charlie Brown attempted once more, and once more Patty interrupted. "Oh I get it, Chuck!" she blasted. "We've got our first game of the season this Saturday and you want to stay focused on your prep! No distractions, right? Eyes focused on the win! What a player! What dedication!"

At this point, Charlie Brown was frustrated at not being able to get in a single meaningful word. Unfortunately for him, Peppermint Patty caught on to his frustration and responded with some of her own. "Chuck, what the hell is your problem? I just came to pay you a friendly visit and you're acting like you don't want me around! Is that it, Chuck? You don't think I'm pretty enough for you?"

"No, it's not that! Not that at all!" Charlie Brown was about to insist, only…

"Then _what_?"

"Patty," he finally had an opportunity, "You're overreacting. You're overreacting and you won't be doing the team any good on Saturday if you take to the field in your current state." He then watched as a wave of realization washed over her. "You're right, Chuck, you're right. We shouldn't be arguing like this when there's a game on the line. I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. What say we shake on it and make up?" With that, she held out a hand, which he took for the promised handshake.

But then…

"You're holding my hand, Chuck!" Patty pointed out with however much seductive mystique she could muster. Charlie Brown immediately saw through to her intent and tried to relinquish his grasp, but Patty tightened her grip, effectively trapping him. Still smiling coquettishly she concluded her statement: "You sly dog!"

And so she used her superior grip and strength, together with Charlie Brown's shock and surprise, to pull him closer and plant a kiss fully on his mouth while using her free hand to secure the back of his head. From Patty's perspective, the kiss was steeped in her wishes and desires for Charlie Brown to acknowledge and accept her feelings towards him. She had her eyes closed as she savored every second of the action. Charlie Brown was the polar opposite; the suddenness and depth of Patty's kiss meant he was out of breath and gasping – _begging_ – for air as her mouth covered his. Patty was unaware of his dilemma as she slowly pulled away from him, smiling most contentedly.

As if Charlie Brown's situation was not awkward enough, it had a witness.

There crouched Lucy, originally come to talk to Charlie Brown and inform him of her feelings towards him. Instead, she was now hidden behind the neighbor's hedgerow. Hidden and watching that blockhead's wishy-washiness on full display. She'd thought he'd grown a backbone with her, that he'd become more assertive, more daring. And there he was, letting Peppermint Patty walk all over him.

_That fool! That spineless, useless milquetoast!_

She felt her anger and frustration simmering over at the sight. The nerve of that damn Patty: how dare she. How _dare_ she? Lucy watched as Peppermint Patty whispered something to Charlie Brown before turning to walk away. This was Lucy's chance! An opportunity to show herself and call out Patty's encroachment and Charlie Brown's spinelessness.

She was halfway to her feet when…

"Patty! Wait!" she heard the blockhead call.

"Yes, Chuck?" Patricia replied in a hopeful tone.

A heavy sigh from Charlie Brown, then: "Listen, I'm truly flattered that you feel about me the way you do."

"Oh I do, Chuck, I do!" the hoyden concurred with even more hope.

The boy braced himself with another heavy sigh. "But I'm sorry, I truly am," he followed up. "I can't return your feelings. There's someone else whom I truly care about."

"You're talking about Lucy, aren't you?" That statement surprised him in that it conveyed neither anger nor disappointment, but insight. Patricia's expression conveyed the selfsame insight, hinting at an awareness that going after the heart of Charlie Brown was now, more than ever, a fool's errand, a lost cause. But beyond the understanding lurked a profound hurt that she was trying her best to hide with a smile.

"I can kinda understand, Chuck," she responded. "I mean, I look at how close you two have become. How only you seem to reach her heart and soul and how she now accepts you for being you." Her breathing had started becoming hitched, but she pressed on. "But me being me, I thought you were forced into the…would you call it a relationship? Anyway," she had to pause to compose herself, "anyway…I…I thought I could make one last move…one last Hail Mary for you."

She paused again to choke back her emotions. "I thought to stampede my way through to you. Dominate the discussion. Not give you a chance to say anything, because…because I already knew what you were going to say, and I didn't want to hear it. I got your lips, Chuck, but Lucy's won your heart."

"Patty, I'm sorry," Charlie Brown repeated. What else could he say?

Peppermint Patty suddenly sprang to sudden ebullience and loudly announced: "Chuck, what the hell is wrong with us? A big game is coming up and here we are trying to sap each other's spirits! We should be thinking about how we'll be running the opposition ragged and annihilating them at every turn! I'm wasting my time here! I should be practicing my throwing arm! So long, Chuck!"

Lucy watched as Patty turned to run to wherever she was headed. Charlie Brown couldn't – but Lucy could – see the tears streaking across Patty's face. The faster she ran, the more strongly they streaked.

Lucy was left with new, uncharted admiration for Charlie Brown. He'd grown a backbone. For her, and her alone. She had to thank him for his commitment. Not now; she didn't want to upset his mindset for Saturday. Come Saturday, she'd know exactly how to show her love for him.

Yes, love.


	7. He Is Into You, Lucy van Pelt!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Peanuts characters belong to Charles Monroe Schulz, even in the wake of his passing.

Well, they lost.

But it felt different this time for Charlie Brown. Not the losing: that still stung. But that stinging sensation wasn't affecting him; he wasn't letting it get to his heart. Instead, he felt satisfaction: the satisfaction of knowing that he had given the team and the game his absolute, 100% best. When he ran, he gained crucial yardage. His tackles seldom missed: at least they'd slow an opponent down; at best they'd stop the opponent dead in their tracks. But it was his kicking that earned him the real respect. With the oppositions' slightly better offense and damn near impregnable defence, it was Charlie Brown's field goals that kept his team in the hunt. Field goals that were good from just about any given distance and which were performed to ever loudening gasps and plaudits from those who witnessed them, friend and foe alike.

They might have won too had Peppermint Patty not misjudged her throw in the final play and had the ball intercepted. So yes, they lost. And yet, in the debriefing there were no goats, no fall guys. Just assurances from the coach that everyone had done their damnedest and that he was pleased by their efforts. Even Patty was forthcoming with her praises as she apologized for her misjudgment while openly acknowledging that "Chuck and his right foot kept us in the game."

He'd noticed the sincerity with which she'd made that statement. In fact, her conduct towards him since the day he rejected her advances was no less than cordial, with no trace at all of any bitterness. At the very least she seemed to have come to terms with his decision and was moving on with her life.

There was one other thing he noticed during the game and right now it was perplexing him.

Lucy.

He hadn't seen nor spoken to her since that day when Patty tried railroading him into a relationship. Then on the night before the game, she'd called him to wish him all the best for the game. Two lines from her stuck with him.

" _All the best for tomorrow. And all I ask is that you give it your all. Who knows, it might be enough this time…_ "

Though her words suggested a putdown, they were delivered in a playful and good-natured tone with which Charlie Brown had become familiar and – if he was being honest – had come to consider an irresistible trait of hers.

The second line was equally profound. " _And Charlie Brown, when you give it your all tomorrow, do it for yourself and the team. Don't do it for me. I've already accepted you._ " Then she hung up before he could ask for clarification. And given how little he could afford any distractions, he let the matter rest: there'd be time to address it after the game.

Or would there?

He saw her in the stands when the teams took to the field, doing her bit to egg the home team on to victory. After the final whistle, she was no longer there. She wasn't there when he had collected his gear and was ready for the walk (correction: slog) home. But Sally was. "Hey, Big Bro," his flighty little sister greeted him. "Wicked game you had. And for once we can't pin a loss on you!"

"Umm, thanks?" replied Charlie Brown, realizing that this was as much of a compliment from Sally as he could ever realistically expect. Over the years she had cultivated a roasting technique on him to rival even Lucy's. Damning with faint praise was indeed a sign that her viewpoint on him had softened.

"So anyway, I got a message for you. From Lucy," she said in a teasing voice. "She's waiting for you."

"Waiting?" Charlie Brown enquired. "Where?"

"She didn't say," replied Sally, satisfied that she had accomplished her task, no more and no less. "Only that you'd know where to find her."

The list of options was not exactly narrowed down, and his process of elimination was not helped by Sally interjecting: "So, I know you and Lucy are supposed to be tight now, but are you two now in a relationship? I see even Patty is leaving you alone now." Then, an impish grin crept up on her face and she followed up with: "So…why does Lucy want you alone anyway..? Should I tell Mom you'll be home a bit later?" She capped off her questioning with a little wink.

And Charlie Brown was left flustered by her questions. "I…I…don't know, _and it's none of your concern anyway!_ "

"Big Bro, a girl is interested in you and as far as I know she doesn't seem like a head case. Forget _my_ business, this is front-page _news_!"

"Just..," Charlie Brown stammered, "tell Mom I'll be late at home!"

"Aw, you sure you don't want me to tag along. Witness a monumental event, maybe?"

Charlie Brown didn't answer that. He simply adopted an authoritative look and pointed away from their location, thus signaling the end of the discussion and for her to be on her way. She relented, but not without a parting shot: "Make sure you don't screw this one up. I mean it!"

She was where he thought she'd be: in the field. He found her kneeling at the center, tossing her football and humming tunelessly.

As exhausted as he was, Charlie Brown still had his curiosity. Why would she meet him here; what was her angle? He cautiously made his way to Lucy, who spoke as soon as he came within earshot: "Hell of a game you played. Almost the most impressive thing I saw you do this week."

_OK_ , he thought as he took the bait.

" _Almost_..?" he asked, more in curiosity than with wounded pride.

Lucy obliged him with her answer, although her expression changed to one that Charlie Brown couldn't exactly read. "I saw what happened between you and Patty the other day," she began, sounding uncertain about the wording to use. "At first I thought you were a spineless, gutless milksop when you let her bully you into letting her kiss you."

Charlie Brown felt a stab of guilt in his heart upon hearing that revelation. "For what it's worth, Lucy," he began a stumbling attempt at an explanation, "I didn't enjoy it."

Lucy's expression remained unchanged. Charlie Brown didn't sense anger, nor jealousy. If anything, Lucy looked disappointed, only her disappointment didn't seem directed towards him. She continued: "But then I saw how you stood your ground against her, telling her how you couldn't accept her feelings and that there was someone else whom you truly cared about."

"And I meant it too, Lucy!" Charlie Brown confirmed. "Despite everything, I truly enjoy your company. I enjoy being with you. You're pretty and you're not afraid to speak your mind and keep me honest."

Surprisingly, Lucy's expression did not perk up at the confession. If anything, she seemed a bit sadder. "And there I stood, willing to give up on you. No benefit of the doubt, no trust, _nothing_! While you showed you were fully committed to me…and to us."

And before Charlie Brown could offer a rebuttal, she continued by placing the football in position for a placekick. "I now know that you trust me wholeheartedly, Charlie Brown. Now I want you to know that I am worthy of that trust."

_What's her angle_ , he wondered. _Is this a genuine display, or does she plan on getting back at me for what happened with Patty_? By the time he was done cycling through the myriad possibilities and variables and nuances, he realized he was standing away from Lucy, ready to begin his runup.

_What the hell, I'll know in five seconds!_

Five-and-a-half seconds later, Charlie Brown was standing in awe as he watched Lucy's ball in mid-flight. The ball carved a long, wide parabolic trajectory as it sailed majestically through the autumn sky. He watched, as it landed with a satisfying _THUNK_ some distance away from them. He then turned to Lucy, whose expression he saw had changed one of expectation, of longing.

Longing for his trust.

Longing for his acceptance.

Longing for his love.

He answered by dropping to his knees in front of her, to embrace her on the ground and hug her like he was sure she'd never been hugged before. He should not have been surprised when she hugged him back. And to be honest, he wasn't. At least not by her hug. It was her crying that took him by surprise.

"Lucy, you're crying," he stated.

"Well spotted, you blockhead!" she replied. A somewhat encouraging display that despite the emotions come to the fore, she hadn't lost all of her abrasiveness. "I've just had the world's biggest blockhead accept me fully for who I am, good and bad, and here I am thinking it one of the happiest moments of my life!"

Charlie Brown's eyes lit up when he heard that confession. "Wait, does this mean..?" He dared to hope.

"That depends," replied Lucy now with a reclaimed spark of mischief. "How _exactly_ did Patty kiss you?"

Charlie Brown smiled back at her and answered: "Like this." Whereupon he brought his mouth to hers for a kiss that he hoped would mimic the emotion and intensity that Patty had shown him. It did, as Lucy smiled a goofy smile afterward and declared: "Oh, I could get used to this!" She then returned the kiss, and once their lips had parted, she followed up with: "Definitely. I could _definitely_ get used to this!"

Then: "Say, Charlie Brown, how much of a hurry are you in to get back home..?"

And so they remained, sitting in the field, hand-in-hand with their fingers interlocked. Leaning against each other in utmost content.

Who could know what was to follow? Maybe this union was doomed to be only a childhood fling, maybe it would signal the beginning of a romance for the ages. Charlie Brown and Lucy van Pelt had no way of knowing. Nor did they particularly care. All they had was each other and the here and now. And, in all truthfulness, right that moment they wanted for nothing more.

Hidden from their sight, someone had witnessed this sequence of events and was thoroughly satisfied with the outcome.

"What can I say?" Sally Brown chuckled to herself. "He really is into you, Lucy van Pelt!"

_**THE END** _


End file.
